JLU Spiderverse: A Merry Spider-Man Christmas
by Stone-Man85
Summary: Twas a week before Christmas, and all through NY frats. No creatures were stirring… except for the Rats. A new enemy will make this the Darkest Christmas ever. Unless Spider-Man and the League can stop them. And if that wasn't a problem, A cat had to cross Peter's path as well.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Justice League, Justice League Unlimited, comic or cartoon; they are the sole property of DC comics and/or Cartoon Network. I also don't own Spider-Man; the franchise is the sole property of Stan Lee and Marvel Comics. This story takes place after JLU Spiderverse, so there will be parts I didn't get to yet. But I can't wait to write this story yet, because it's a Christmas tale.**

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**JLU Spiderverse: A Merry Spider-Man Christmas**

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**Prologue**

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**3 Years Ago**

**Manhattan New York**

**Hell's Kitchen**

The now blanketed the city of New York. Though the lights twinkled through the darkened cold night. The blizzard that rained down the snow, made winds unbearable to be outside at the moment. But it did little to deter even the snow storms blowing in, thickening the sidewalks and streets of nearly three feet of snow. Snow plowers were going through, making the streets accessible once again for traffic. And it was a good thing too, considering New York's traffic was so slow and terrible, that no one dared to even speed and crash into a building.

Not even in Hell's Kitchen.

Hell's Kitchen, or Clinton as it was formerly called, was a part of New York City. It was with a western boundary of 12th Ave. eastern boundary of 8th Ave, northern boundary of 59th St, and southern boundary of 34th St. it earned the name Hell's Kitchen due to the soaking blood that was wrought on by the crime wave. Looting and rape were the norm on these streets, as well as countless murders. The streets were soaked with blood from all the deaths caused by criminals who took refuge or did their dealings in this place. Some say that the Devil had taken residence in this district, and that its influence spread to all over, attracting criminals to no end. Hence it was given the name Hell's Kitchen by those who were crazy or desperate enough to live there.

But it was also a good place to hide… for illegal reasons.

* * *

**Building 0666**

The abandoned building inside had been refurbished into a makeshift lab. Inside, wires and cables were spread all over like webbing on the ceiling, walls, and even some aspects of the floor. Clean dissection tables were in place, with operating lamps either on full juice or flickered on and off. On the right side of the wall, was a huge wall of cages, each full of rats; either brown, black, or mixture of the two colors. And at the moment, one rat cage was near a working lab table; a white rat curiously walked back and forth, watching the only human in the room at work dissecting a dead rat.

The man was around the age of thirty-three, slim build but still physically fit, and Caucasian. He had black hair combed back with a white streak on both sides, sharp blue eyes examining the rat in question. He wore brown pants with brown shoes, a white button up shirt with a black vest, and a lab coat, indicating that he was in truth a scientist. His name was Dr. Edward Whelan, a scientist well-known in genetics, but what he was doing working on rats in Hell's Kitchen, that was for only himself to know.

After he extracted what he needed from the dead rat with a hypodermic needle, he walked over to a chem lab he had set up. He then injected the remains of the rat in a green substance in a beaker of sorts. Then, he poured the green contents in a graduated cylinder, and held it over a Bunsen burner to heat up. After five minutes, he then placed the cylinder in a centrifuge. It spun the cylinder for more than ten minutes as it stopped, and Dr. Whelan pulled it out. The chemical had turned from a mixture of green and red, into a fine bright purple.

Dr. Whelan smiled at this, as he congratulated himself, "Yes. Oh yes." He turned to the white rat, as he talked to it, as it appeared to be his only companion, "Oh, Socrates, my intelligent furred friend. It's finished." He then corked the cylinder, and then hooked it into an injector gun. "After tireless efforts in utilizing the mutagenic properties of Kryptonite, isolating the low level of radiation to a safe dosage, and carefully permeating the rat's placenta with it, letting Mother Nature purifying the chemical. I have developed a neural mutagenic chemical that will allow anyone injected with it, to gain access to the more untapped recesses of the human mind."

"In other words, Dr. Whelan, you've developed a chemical that will make anyone a psychic."

The new voice nearly spooked Dr. Whelan, as he nearly jumped out of his lab coat, as he spun around. The man was Caucasian, possible early fifties or early sixties, slim but well-fit frame, dressed in a green business suit, light green dress shirt, with a yellow tie with an S insignia on it, black gloves, and black shoes as well. Is hair was combed back, but stuck up at two points, like an owl's eyebrows, thick black eyebrows, and eyes so sharp, they might as well be shark eyes. This was Simon Stagg, of Stagg Industries, a company specialized in chemical experimentation.

Close to him, was another man of Caucasian. Only his frame was heavy in muscle, hunched a bit, with an ape-like face, dressed in a blue business suit, and black hair slicked on both sides. This was Java, Stagg's right hand man, although not a man per say. He was actually an experiment that Stagg had grown, in an attempt for his daughter, Sapphire, to have a husband he could control. But somehow, with this guy's limited intelligence, that didn't pan out as well.

Stagg smirked as he walked over to Dr. Whelan, "That was the project you promised me, isn't it?"

A bit startled by the appearance of his employer, Whelan regained his composure, "Well, um, yes of course, Mr. Stagg. Of course, this is the only batch that has held together without losing its integrity." He walked over to the work table, holding most of his notes, "The rats DNA helped in the first trial run, but it began to fall apart faster due to the Kryptonite you gave me to work with. But I found a shortcut." He then walked over to a flask jar, and held it up. Inside, and suspended in a syrup-like fluid to preserve the remains, was a Fluke, or Flatworm, "By splicing the Fluke's genetic material for regeneration, I enabled the serum to bond instantly. And voila, a perfect product."

But then he scratched his chin, as a worried look on his face came to be, "Although, I haven't tested this batch. Yet. And considering too many variables with the flatworm and rat DNA spliced together…. " He sighed heavily, "Well, who knows what the mutagenic properties will cause."

"But it will still enable anyone who's injected with it the psychic abilities to read minds, right," Stagg asked, not liking the worry on the man's face.

Dr. Whelan reassured his employer, "Of course. But I still need to do a trial run on the rats to see if it'll be useful in human testing."

Stagg smirked at that concept, as he snapped his fingers, signaling Java to come to his side, "A noble endeavor on your side, Dr. Whelan. But unfortunately… my benefactors just don't have that time." And with that, Java walked towards the desk, taking the notes, and any other things that was needed.

Whelan looked shocked by this, as he asked, "What's the meaning of this?"

"The meaning of this, is that you've accomplished what you've strived to prove to me," Stagg calmly stated, as Java gathered the research materials. "And now that you've succeeded, I'll be taking over from now on. As well as take what you have."

"But… Why?"

"Why?" Stagg chuckled as he explained, "Do you have any idea how much the military would pay to have a serum that would enable to read the minds of their enemies? The KGB dreamt of such an ability, and nearly fifty years later, America succeeded where they failed."

"Military usage of this chemical wasn't part of the deal," Whelan argued, rather angrily, "You said this research would go to the law enforcement, for investigation and interrogation. To save lives in kidnappings and serial killer cases! Not to be used in ending lives!"

"Edward, you're an idealist. And that's what's kept you from working in a real lab, unlike this place," Stagg stated, as he pointed to himself. "Myself, I'm a realist. And with that realization, I've reached the top of the corporate ladder, using military contracts. Using nothing more or less than that which my people everyday have made with their experiments." He then smirked at Whelan, almost maliciously, "And you're no exception to that."

He then looked over to Java, and ordered, "Java. Retrieve the final serum from… the late Dr. Whelan." Java walked over to the good doctor, "Your unfortunate murder here in Hell's Kitchen will be served as a martyr in the future."

Java reached to grab the serum injector, but Whelan was faster as he grabbed it, and protested yelling, "NO! I won't allow you to pervert my research as a weapon!"

Java grabbed on to Whelan, forcing him to let go of the gun, but it proved to be a struggle. They both crashed into the chemical labs, breaking the beakers and glass equipment, as the chemicals fell and spilled to the floor and desk. the Bunsen burner fell to the floor, rolling away from the chemicals, but it didn't stop any of the fluids from going close to it. And as the struggle continued, no one bother to notice from atop the roof, that a rat was chewing through one of the cables. The struggle continued as Java knocked Whelan into Socrates' cage, letting the little fellah loose from his cage, as he scurried away. The struggle would have almost gone forever… until Whelan's eyes went wide as he cried out a gasp.

Java's eyes went wide as well, as he slowly stepped back, as he and Simon Stagg both witnessed… that Whelan had injected himself with the serum. As he pulled the syringe gun out of his chest, he slowly shook, in fear of what he had just done. But then, after a few seconds, he hunched over in pain, as he groaned out cries of pain. He grabbed the edge of the table with his hand, the skin on his hand bubbling and bumping with change. He arched his back out, as he cried out in even further pain, as his eyes suddenly went milky white iwht no pigmentation at all.

At that moment, the cable the rat chewed in finally came loose, as the live cable hit the floor to where the chemicals were, where Whelan was kneeling in pain. And blew up, throwing the good doctor into the controls for the cages, spilling all the rats out.

As the fires spread, Stagg ordered Java to move, "Get me out of here! NOW!" Java rammed into the wall, making a hole, as he led his boss out. But as Stagg was making his way out, he took a gaze at Whelan's thrashing and mutating form. "I guess it still needed refinement," Stagg concluded, as he turned away, "Farewell, Dr. Edward Whelan… you vermin."

As the fires blazed out of control, Whelan's form began to bend and stretch, taking shape. His forearms became longer, as the muscles in his arms became stronger, his feet stretched out as both his fingers and toes grew long and yellow claw like fingernails. His body grew to almost seven feet, as most of his clothes and shoes tore up, leaving only his tattered pants to hold. He tried to find his way around, but for some odd reason, his eyes couldn't register shapes or colors anymore. He fell to the ground, trying to feel around for anything. But the heat and explosions only scared him further, as the retreating rats were almost out of there.

But Whelan begged aloud for someone to help him, "Help me! PLEASE, HELP ME!" but just as the rats were about ot vacate, they stopped, and turned around, almost as if they obeyed what he had just said. They scurried to his aid, as did Socrates, as he was perched on the man's shoulder.

Suddenly, everything was back in sight now, well almost. As everything he saw was colored black and red, almost like radar. But this didn't faze the doctor at the moment, as he finally got back on his feet. A bit wobbly on his legs, he managed to run out of the room, now back in sight again, as the rats dissipated and ran out of there. Even as Whelan did so himself, but as he ran out, he failed to notice his shape. Now more muscles, taller, animal in appearance, as well as something new that lashed around as he walked.

A giant rat tail.

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**Outside**

Whelan stumbled outside, after he had ripped the door down and threw it to the side. He leaned onto a wall, just as the window to his lab blew up. He stumbled through the falling snow, rubbing his arms to rid himself of the coldness that plagued him. However, as he did so, he felt patches of fur on his forearms and shoulders, as he walked around. He ignored it as he tried to find some way to battle the cold. He knocked into an old dumpster, and found an oversized black trench coat with a big collar to it. He grabbed it and pulled it on, as he stumbled near a sidewalk. A sidewalk, that had people walking about.

He stumbled towards them, and made his way to someone for help. The closest he could get to, was a beautiful brunette dressed out for the town. He immediately stumbled to her, as he begged her, "Please, help me."

She screamed aloud, pushing him away, as she screamed in terror, "Stay away from me! You monster!"

Whelan tried to figure out what was going on, until he looked around, getting the same reaction from everyone. Before he could figure out what was going on, a police car pulled over, and two officers stepped out. They had their gun hands on their holsters, as the first officer ordered, "Halt! Stay right where you are, pal, or… whatever you are!"

Whelan blinked as he protected, "What I am? I'm a man!"

"A man doesn't have a rat tail," Officer 2 pointed out.

Whelan blinked at that, as he felt a swish in the air behind him. He looked at behind him, as he saw a gigantic rat tail, swinging behind him, as he shuddered, "N-no…" he cried onto his knees, as he screamed out, "NO! NO! NOOOOOO!"

The officers didn't know what to do at the moment, but knew this guy had to go down. They pulled out their night sticks, and ran towards him, beating the daylights out of him. Whelan begged them to stop, but his words went unheard, as they mercilessly beat him down. Finally, something within him snapped, as he roared out, throwing one guard aside. The first one tried to get at him with a taser, but he grabbed the officer's wrist, crushing it slowly in his hands. The police officer cried out in further pain, as he struggled to break free of this mysterious Rat Man.

The second officer, had reached back into the car, but Whelan noticed this, as somehow, his thoughts were read. Before the second officer could either get his shotgun, or even radio for backup, a swarm of rats charged at him. They swarmed him, almost burying him alive in rats, as they scratched and bit him, but only enough to keep him occupied. Whelan then threw the first officer aside, and saw a crowd of people about to swarm him. But he roared at them, causing them all to back away. At that moment, the swarm of rats suddenly piled around him, covering him in a body suit of rats.

The officers then brought out their revolvers, and started shooting him. The pile of rats then fell down, and once they scattered, Dr. Edward Whelan was nowhere to be seen.

The Officer who was attacked by the rats, scratched his head, as he asked, "What the heck? Where'd it go?"

If anyone had even notice at that time, during the confusion, one of the manhole covers from a street drain grill had been removed. And that the rats had all scurried into the sewer, with no one being the wiser.

* * *

**In the Sewers**

Deep down below into the catacombs that were the sewers of New York, Whelan had made his way down. From the streams and canals that made up the sewers, he treaded where no normal man had made his way to. From further inland, nearly a mile down in the sewers, he had found a place to hide in. it was an abandoned subway system, crashed into the walls and broke into the Hudson River, allowing a lake pool to form from underneath the subway cars that were embedded into the walls. There, Whelan sat atop one of them on a crouched position, as he looked at himself in the reflection. His face had remained hidden, but he could see himself, as he gently caressed his face with his now chalk white hand, still with long yellow clawed fingernails.

He hunched over, as Socrates still remained perched on his shoulder. "My dream is dead," he told himself in defeat and self-pity. "My research his dead…." He then looked at his mutated disfigured hands, as he clenched them, "And this… monstrous form of a man is proof that my humanity is dead. And I... I should be as well."

But as that thought came to him, he started hearing whispers all around him. And unaware of it, rats upon rats started coming out of the woodwork, perched on the cars or on the railways of the waiting station of the subway. He realized the whispers were becoming louder, and becoming many as well.

Whelan blinked, while his face and head remained hooded, as he lightly held his head iwht one hand, "Something… in my head. Something talking." It was then that he blinked in surprise, and looked around, seeing all the rats gather. He then remembered back on the street, the swarm of rats that had come to his aide, even back in his lab. Whelan soon realized as he looked at the rats, "The neuro-chemical. It didn't just mutate my appearance; it actually gave me a psychic connection. With the rats."

Just then, Socrates squeaked something to him, as he turned and faced him, "Stagg?" he thought about it, remembering his betrayal, as his fists clenched. "The true vermin… No!" He then stood up, as he looked to all the rats, "Stagg is merely the current carrier. And Stagg Industries is nothing more than the waypoint for him to spread the plague he infects with his vile greed and arrogance."

The rats scurried around him, circling him as he called out, "Fear not, my brothers and sisters. Soon, soon all of humanity shall be cleansed of this disease. But we must plan all this before we act. For we are not Vermin…" his hood then looked upward, revealing that his eyes had now gone from milky white, to pinkish red, as he chuckled, "The real evil, the true vermin… shall be dealt with."

Whelan cackled as all the rats in the area crowned around him. As they obeyed the thoughts and wishes of their new king. The man once known as Edward Whelan was no more. Now, all that was left… was Vermin.

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**Next Chapter: Spiders, Heroes, and Rats! Oh, my!**


End file.
